Its true, but it is not
by Simevra Lestrange
Summary: The monologue of Bellatrix Lestrange as she makes some very tough decisions and gets what she wants. Yet, does she want it? Written for QLC.


**A/N: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. WRITTEN FOR QUIDDITCH LEAGUE COMPETITION FINALS ROUND 2. So, again, this is completely Angsty. And my darling readers, just so you know, this does not contain a single dialougue, not even an "Oh."**

**But that's no excuse to not read, so go ahead.**

He stares at me. Will I do this for him? Tears stream down my cheeks.

He looks away in disgust, he hates tears, I know. But I can't help them. What he asks is too much, too much for anyone, but ill do it anyway. That is how it has been for years. My life revolved around him, revolves around him and will forever revolve around him.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and reluctantly wipes my tears. He hates any gesture of affection or love, but he knows I need this now. I need his touch, I need it to know he cares. Or to delude myself so.

He gives it because he wants me to do what he wants. What he wants, though, is an entirely different issue.

He walks away from me and opens a cabinet and pulls out a silver dagger. He looks back at me and holds it out. I shake my head slowly, and his face becomes a cold mask, the way it does before he gets his way, despite what I say.

My silent, ladylike tears give way to uncontrollable sobbing with hysterical wails and I fall to the floor.

I clutch my knees and sob, the enormity of what he wants me to do washes over me anew. He places his hands on my shoulders and pulls me up. He looks angry and hurt, but mostly…. I cannot believe it.

He looks _betrayed._

My sobs slowly start to cease and he looks at my face, narrowing his eyes. And his long arms wrap around me and pull me close.

My breath hitches. Is he hugging me?

He soothingly rubs my back and strokes my hair. After a moment of hesitancy, I wrap my arms around him.

_Wrong._

He pulls back instantly and pushes me away. He glares at me angrily, and I know I have crossed a line.

But I do not care. This man will not kill me, Not _now, _I am of use to him.

He takes a deep breath again and pulls me back into an embrace. He takes my hand and puts it against his chest.

My heart stops beating, and I know I should be happy. Thrilled. How many times have I imagined this moment, how many times have I pretended my husband was this man? But no, I am not happy.

Because, all those times I imagined, he would touch me with love. Now he touches me because he wants his task done.

His tasks, His needs, His wants, that's all that matters to him.

He is so self absorbed.

But, am I any different?

To the world, I am the lady version of him. Mudbloods and Blood Traitors scurry away like rats when they see me, when they _hear _my boots clicking. My laughter terrorises children. The Ministry craps in its pants when it comes to me.

I have tortured and killed many, ruthlessly, enjoying every second of it. I have made an infant watch as I tortured his parents to insanity. Nothing ever gets in my way. If it did, well, it has to go.

I destroy all that stands in my way. Because that's who I am, that is what I do.

Because I am Bellatrix Lestrange.

Because I am married to a wimp who thinks twice before killing a blood traitor, just because he is family.

Because I am in Love with the man I follow.

I am as self absorbed as him. I am _equal _to him, but I am not.

He places my hand over his heart, and I feel the steady beat.

Odd. I never knew it existed.

My tears stop. His questioning glance asks it all. Will I do this for him?

Will I kill my _husband _for him?

I do not love Rodolphus. But he doesn't deserve to go, and I do not want to be a widow. He is a good friend, Rodolphus and it would be a shame to kill him.

Especially without magic.

How many times have I killed? A hundred times? A thousand? Yet, my hands shake, my heart races, its like the first time.

Though, my first time was nothing like that. I was happy, and in control and enjoying every second of it. I relished hearing the screams of the Mudbloods and Blood traitors. I enjoyed the terror on their faces, their pleadings as they begged me to spare their miserable, pathetic lives.

I'd laugh and cast the curse. And they would die like the scum they were.

He coaxes the dagger into my shaking, sweating hand. He kisses my cheek.

I pull back, shocked.

He smiles at me -Oh, how fake it is!- and I tentatively raise my hand to touch his face. His face that I have dreamed of touching so many times.

His jaw sets tightly, but for the task, he nods.

He should, after all, give me a reason to do it.

So he nods. And I place my hand on the cold, cold, clammy skin.

He lets out a breath, and I realise he had been holding it.

Is my touch so repulsive? I pull away my hands quickly, and my face is the host to a number of emotions.

I think I look really miserable or mad or both, because he _swallows nervously_.

Yes, that's right. He swallows nervously. And he draws me to him, and holds my hand to his cheek.

His cheek, which is thin. I can feel his high cheekbones. And I really, really want this to be true. From his heart.

But no, it is not. And that breaks mine.

He looks at me with a new, raw emotion. I know not what it is.

But I know it is intense.

Either he is going to kill me, or he is going to kiss me.

He leans in, and I will not hope he kisses me, because if I come so close, yet so far, the pain would kill me.

But he does. _He kisses me._

And I stay still as a statue. I wanted this all along, why am I unable to take it?

I don't care. I am Bellatrix Lestrange, soon to be Black again, and I will stop getting all emotional.

Even if it is the Dark Lord.

Wordlessly, I grip the dagger firmly. I will do this, I will kill Rodolphus, and I will report back to the Dark Lord, and we can forget all this, the touches and the _kiss _and ill be his servant again, the one who does his bidding.

He will be the master that has a heart, but does not.

I pull away quickly and walk away, dagger in hand, ready to kill my husband. The optimististic part of my mind registers that he looks sad and haunted, but at the moment, I am not dominated by love.

I am dominated by bloodlust.

**FIVE HOURS LATER**

_Bella,_

_I realise I was wrong._

_I really want to make amends._

_Please, please consider it. Because at the end of the day, we are still sisters._

_I will come to Lestrange Manor at nine. _

_Andromeda Black_

_PS I filed for a divorce_

I read the letter, the one happy news I've heard all day. The sound of Rodolphus's shoes reach my ear and I grip my dagger tightly and try very hard to imagine him as a mudblood.

But how can I, when he is not?

He wraps his arms, around my waist, he doesn't see the dagger. He kisses my neck. I spin around and while kissing him, I stab him.

One, quick, powerful stab, straight to the heart. Both of ours.

With a cry of agony, and an expression of betrayal, he falls, my husband.

He falls in a puddle of blood, and I do my best to adopt my haughty sneer, but somehow I cannot do it, and I cry.

His form goes limp, and the lifeless orbs beg to know why I did it.

But he shall never know.

A gasp distracts me. Andromeda stands at the doorway, horrified.

She runs, and my predatory instincts kick in, and I forget who I am hunting.

_Stupid, stupid girl._

Had she not run, I would have explained, but now she did, I know she will tell. And I cannot let that happen.

So, I grab a sword from the wall and chase her . She doesn't know Lestrange manor, and she runs into a wall.

The sword glints as it moves and my sister lies dead. I kneel with a sob and hug her dead body and kiss the forehead, and smoothen the horrified features. The face which is almost a replica of mine, and yet so different from me.

I cry and cry, who do I have left? I suddenly realise I loved Rod and Andi more than I ever thought, and that makes me want to tear out my heart and smash it against the wall and kick it across the country.

They are gone. No point in crying. Who next? Narcissa? Draco?

I swear, if he wants me to do that, I will stab myself. I will never hurt Draco or Narcissa.

I wouldn't mind killing Lucius, though, Narcissa is better off without him.

All I have left is my sister, her son….and _him._

Should I go to him? Of course I should.

**ONE MORE HOUR LATER**

Here I am, again. He holds me, nuzzles me, and kisses me, he even declares his love for me, but I am a little more than an Inferi.

He says he is proud of me and that he intends to make me immortal and marry me, but I stare at the black chandelier.

He promises we will have an heir, but I silently laugh, for I know I am too old.

He says he wants me to begin a new life with him, a life where we build a new manor, of my choice, but do I want a new life? I hate my old one as it is.

He finally announces that the day has been hard on me, and he will let me rest, but I know it is just to make himself feel better.

Why is all this happening to me?

Because, I am Bellatrix Lestrange, Dark Witch, Wanted covinct, Murderer, Heartless and Insane woman.

**A/N: This, is the Angstiest Angst filled Angst story I have ever written and that includes a story I never published, a suicidal letter written by Draco. But all is fair and Okay in love and war and Quidditch, so here I submit! **

**Go Kestrals! *brings out pom poms and cartwheeles***

**Im kinda depressed now, so ill just go and listen to Rap God.**


End file.
